Marinka was eight years old. She lived with her mother and father in a small hut on the outskirts of the town. She loved looking out the window. Especially in winter — because then everything becomes different, white, quiet.
On Christmas Eve, Marinka stood by the window, looking at the snow. It was falling thicker and thicker. And suddenly, something moved on the road. Marinka pressed her forehead against the window.
There was an old wicker basket by the gate. Something moved in it. Small, white. Marinka froze. She looked longer. A small kitten moved in the basket.
"Mom! Dad!" Marinka shouted. "There's a kitten! In the snow!"
Mom and Dad ran up. They looked. Someone heartless brought the kitten and threw it. On Christmas Eve. In the snow. White-white, like a snowflake, freezing in the basket. Thin paws, turning blue.
Marinka, not expecting anything, ran into the yard, wearing only slippers. She took the kitten in her arms. It was no longer meowing - it was only wheezing softly. Its eyes were closed. Its fur was wet.
Marinka brought the kitten into the house. Mom was already laying a towel on the stove. Dad brought hot water to wash its paws. Marinka held the little body in her hands, breathed on it, whispered: "Don't die. Please, don't die.".
The kitten didn't react. It lay like a thin white piece. Dad said, "Baby, don't cry. We did everything we could. Sometimes it's too late.".
Marinka didn't let go. She sat on a bench by the stove. She swaddled the kitten in a soft woolen scarf. She held it to her chest. And she began to softly hum a lullaby to it - the same one that her mother had once sung to her.
So time passed. Marinka didn't notice. She put her head on the scarf and dozed off, not letting go of the kitten.
In her dream, she dreamed that someone breathed warmth on her cheek. Someone big, in white robes, with a golden mitre, with a staff in his hand. He approached her, gently placed his hand on her scarf - where the kitten lay. And whispered: "Well done, girl. You didn't abandon him. I will help you.".
Marinka woke up from something soft and warm. The kitten in her arms moved. It opened one eye. Then the other. And meowed softly - weakly, but alive!
"Mom! Dad!" Marinka shouted. "It's alive!"
Mom and dad came running. They looked - the kitten was already raising its head, looking for warmth with its muzzle. Dad looked at mom. Mom looked at Marinka.
"Marinka," said Mom, "you saved him. He's yours now. What will you name him?"
Marinka smiled. Her eyes were wet. "A snowball. Because I found it in the snow. And because it's my snow gift from Saint Nicholas.".
The snowball purred. He snuggled against Marincha's chest. And outside the window, the quiet snow fell and fell. And somewhere out there, far away, someone in a golden mitre smiled - pleased that there was a girl in the small town who had not passed by.
💛 Kindness is when you see it and don't pass it by.